


The Best Thing (English translation)

by avawtsn



Series: Golden Rings (English translation) [1]
Category: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011), Wild Target (2010)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Domestic Violence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Married Couple, Mpreg, Original Character(s), Parenthood, Pregnancy, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:51:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avawtsn/pseuds/avawtsn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>This work is a translation from the Indonesian -- the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/907611">original</a> is by Zasha, AKA Bulecelup [<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/bulecelup">AO3</a> | <a href="http://bulecelup.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>]. Translation by me, Caroline [<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/abject">AO3</a> | <a href="http://avawatson.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>]. My translator's voice will be in bold so you can tell us apart.</b><br/><b>I haven't taken many liberties in the translation, so you'll be seeing more ellipses and stilted language than I'm sure you'd see if the original had been in English. Hope you understand!</b><br/> <br/><i>Congratulations, you two are going to be parents.</i></p><p>  <i>The words needle into his skull. Hector sits down weakly on the waiting room chair, both hands gripping his head. Face turned down, he looks at the hospital floor and both his feet atop that. His eyes bulged out, glaring, fear consuming his chest from the inside. It makes him feel choked in his throat.</i></p><p>All of a sudden, bad memories about the past come bursting forth. Hector doesn't know what he should do. Peter Guillam/Hector Dixon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bulecelup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulecelup/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Best Thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/907611) by [bulecelup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulecelup/pseuds/bulecelup). 



> This is only for the sake of my HEART holy shit ;w; // plunging into a mouth of hell // trampled underfoot // so because Peter Guillam/Hector Dixon is MADLY popular on Pixiv and I am already on hell so uwu; Wild Target and TTSS is no mine. and if you don't know anything about this pair, just imagine Sherlock/John. because...THE SAME PEOPLE PLAY THEM #PLAK Guillam:Benedict dan Hector:Martin. *shooooh

BANG!

The sound of gunfire stilled in the air.

Who the hell wouldn't panic at the sound of a gunshot in your own house? When, as far as you can remember, the only other person with you was your own partner?

Peter Guillam felt his face paling as he clutched the still-open door of his car. He had just returned from the office when as many as 3 gunshots greeted him. The Englishman with the silvery blue eyes stared at the Victorian house standing in the middle of a small wood, his home with his family for the past 3 years.

"...Hector!? HECTOR!?"

His voice, which had all but disappeared, now returned. Peter ran, really ran, toward the door. He found it unlocked, as per usual. Hector being careless again... Like a beast being chased by a predator, this man who worked as a spy for the State Intelligence Agency ran around the entire perimeter of house to look for Hector, his husband.

BANG!

Again, a gunshot rang out. This time, Guilliam could hear it more clearly, the sound of it coming from the backyard of their house. He turned his search there, sliding the glass door that blocked his way until he made out the source of the noise.

"Oh my God, Hector!" Peter panted. "Hector, what are you doing?" he said.

Hector Dixon, now named Hector Guilliam, glanced at his husband from over his shoulder. In his hand was a long barreled gun, a firearm made for shooting over long distances. There was a board in front of a target sitting some distance from where he stood. The target board was perforated with gunshots, some scattered around, but the largest hole was dead center. It meant an aim that didn't slip.

Hector lowered his weapon and pulled off his earplugs. "Hm? Oh, you're home," he commented.

Peter tensed as he walked up to Hector.

"P-put down your weapon, for god's sakes! Wh-what are you even doing?"

"Well, you can see I'm doing target practice, can't you? I'm bored."

Hearing Hector's explanation just made Peter more nervous. Of course a relationship with an elite assassin was difficult work and had its trials and tribulations...but now Hector had gone to work directly under Peter, and he was not doing so well--bringing us to the present situation...

"You shouldn't do that!" Peter raised his voice, but he didn't sound very angry. "With--with--your condition--such as it is--" he stammered out.

Hector turned around completely to look dead on at Peter. The bulge of his pregnant belly, some seven months along, was prominent in that black turtleneck jumper he so often wore. Hector flashed his typical teethy grin at Peter, "Oh do shut up, Peter. Come on, let's go inside. I'm starving."

Acting as if nothing had happened at all, Hector sauntered past Peter, who was rooted in place by shock. Hector leaned the weapon against his shoulder as he walked past. Peter could only stare open-mouthed, astonished at this behavior...

After finding out that they would be having a child, Peter had told Hector to take a break from...uh...his "work." Hector agreed but grumbled severely, as he was not used to being without work. Every day was the same business with Hector, dealing with bladed weapons, blood, targets, guns, murder, conspiracies, and now he had to sit still without doing anything at all until their child was born?

Peter let out a long sigh. He followed Hector into the house.

"Hector..." he called out.

The man ignored him, staring instead into the inside of their fridge. He stood with one hand supporting his waist to balance out the extra weight of his belly. "Ugh. This fridge is filled with nothing but vegetables, there's practically no meat at all, not even drink...I'm starving!" he growled.

"You have to remember to eat healthy, and that means not eating just whatever you feel like," Peter told him, taking off his suit jacket and throwing it over the arm of the living room sofa.

Hector slammed the fridge door shut, "No! I don't want to! I want to eat what I like, good, tasty food!" The cynical look that he so often wore when he was killing people colored Hector's gaunt face. He scowled wholeheartedly at Peter, who so easily angered him as of late.

Peter again let out a long sigh at his husband's atrocious behavior. Instead of becoming more pliant after marriage, and now pregnant, he was worse than ever...but even so, this was the Hector that Peter liked. Peter loved the man's entire being, frightening though it was, it just...there were a few things about him that still peeved him.

"Well, if that's the case...uh, do you want to eat pasta instead? I could cook it for you!" Peter offered. Negotiation was a specialty of his, as it was for all British spies in his field.

"...with anchovies?"

Peter allowed himself a small grin, knowing that he was winning back Hector's good graces.

"Yes, of course. I can cook anchovy pasta for you. Now, you'd better sit down and give yourself a break."

"Fine. But I want to clean my gun holster," Hector grinned back.

Peter was a bit dumbfounded. Under his breath, he complained, "...Why are you always searching out activities that could endanger yourself or the baby..."

"What did you say?"

"Ah, oh nothing," Peter drew nearer and gave Hector a kiss on the brow. "Don't worry about it, just stay out of the kitchen for now, okay?" he said. Better he leave than have a toaster thrown at him like last month...

* * *

 

Only after Peter finished making the anchovy pasta did Hector come back, this time calm. He ate peacefully at the dinner table with Peter. Peter desperately tried forcing Hector to also eat the salad that he made, but the man truly hated his greens.

"So how are you doing today? How's the baby?" Peter asked.

After dinner, Peter was also in charge of washing the dishes. They usually shared the cooking and cleaning duties, but Peter wasn't letting Hector do any hard work now.

"Fine..." Hector answered, moving from the the dining chair to the couch.

Then he took the TV remote control and starting flipping through channels, one after another. He was utterly avoiding the lengthier discussion that Peter wanted from him.

Lately, Peter was finding Hector to be increasingly unconcerned about his surroundings. Especially now that he was pregnant, he was still engaging in dangerous activities, like that stunt with discharging weapons before. And yesterday, Hector practiced his aim with throwing knives on the wooden support beams under the stairs.

Peter wondered whether Hector even really cared about this pregnancy. When they had found out about it initially, Peter saw Hector's face pale in the hospital waiting chair. He looked like he had just heard some awful news or something. Although just after that, he had melted into Peter's arms and told him how happy he was, it seemed now that Hector had forgotten all about whatever happiness he'd felt...

...maybe Hector changed his mind? Maybe he didn't want this child?

_Ring!_

The sound of the ringtone startled Peter. He was lucky to not drop the slick plate in his hands, as that would have only added to his shock.

It was Hector's cell phone that had rung. He immediately picked it up, "Hello? Oh, it's you. Have you found it? Mmmhmm...send me the address, we'll go there tomorrow. I'll take care of it myself."

Their conversation drew Peter's attention. "Take care of it yourself?" That sounded like a code word for killing a new target. For what sake would Hector be taking kill assignments again? In his condition? But he had promised not to do that anymore! Was Peter just being overly paranoid?

Hector and the caller didn't speak long. He spoke only as much as he needed to and no more, typical Hector. It only made Peter more suspicious. _There was no way in hell he would let his pregnant husband kill people again._

"Who was on the phone, _dear_?"

Peter inquired innocently enough. Finishing up the last of the dishes, he approached Hector where he sat.

"Fabian," Hector shifted down so that Peter could sit beside him. "Just about a thing, you know. Trivial stuff..." he said.

Fabian was his bodyguard as well as Hector's partner in their line of work. A large bodied man with a fierce face, he was a man Hector could only describe as pea-brained. But he was a good man, and he had shed heartfelt tears at their wedding.

And apparently, Hector wasn't going to tell him what he spoke to Fabian about on the phone. Peter's misgivings only took further hold of him...

Absently they touched each other, silent. The only sound came from the TV, some program about a detective and his loyal partner. It was evidently quite popular as of late.

Hector snuck a look at Peter out of the corner of his eye. Finding Peter looking straight ahead, an empty gaze into the middle distance. It was strange, Peter was never usually like this when they were together. Maybe he was tired? Had a lot of work being assigned to him from Smiley?

Seeing Peter like that, Hector didn't have the heart to bother him further. So he went along with the silence, but his eyes didn't drift from Peter's figure. Hector had his own skills in quiet observation, thanks to hard training for this particular specialty.

And so they spent the remainder of the evening in an uncomfortable silence...

* * *

 

They didn't feel night approaching. Replacing the orange sunset was a dark blue sky, scattered with tiny dots some call stars.

Hector was already laying down on the bed. Changed into black pyjamas, he laid on his side now because of the heavy belly. It was difficult to breathe when he laid down on his back, so it was best to sleep on his side.

Meanwhile, Peter had just come out of the bathroom, having just showered. A small towel around his neck, he caught sight of Hector's figure, back to him on the bed, and an uncertain smile broke across his face. Was was Hector really planning? He wasn't planning on really messing around, right?

Shutting off the lights, Peter put on his pyjamas and got into bed with Hector. The tall man with the light blonde hair took his position behind Hector, and wrapped both his arms around him, meeting at his belly. It was their usual sleeping position, considering Hector's increasingly large midsection.

Peter nuzzled his face into Hector's neck, giving him a little kiss.

"Hey, Dixon..." Even though they were married now, Peter still liked to call him by his old surname. "I love you," he whispered softly.

"Hmmmm..." Hector replied, grumbling weakly. Peter had apparently roused him only to half-awake with that.

Ignoring Hector's annoyance, Peter edged himself closer to his partner's body until their whole bodies pressed together.

Peter closed his eyes again before revisiting his concerns about Hector. He was so very fretful, this being their first child and everything. This child who had suddenly come between them, who they were utterly unprepared for. But both Hector and Peter had received the news with joy.

Yeah...Peter was probably just being paranoid...

* * *

 

Same as any other morning, Guilliam awoke to the sound of the alarm clock at 7:15 a.m. And Hector had disappeared from his arms. Peter's hands fell limply onto Hector's side, now empty. Hector was always up a bit early, a habit he'd had from the start.

This wasn't the most comfortable sleep I've ever had, Peter thought. There were no dreams, everything was dark until he opened his eyes all of a sudden and it was morning...Body and mind still tired, still wanting to just relax at home with Hector, but then he remembered that Smiley still had some work for him. They still had to stabilize the "Circus" after some "pest control."

Peter reluctantly trudged from the bed, sitting for a moment on the edge of the bed until he came to full awakeness.

"Peter!"

He could hear Hector's call from outside the room. Peter turned his head toward it, his whole stance going into standby mode as adrenaline coursed its way through his body.

"Yes, Hector!?" Peter yelled back, instantly moving up from his seat and walking quickly toward the door.

Hector yelled again, "What breakfast do you want?"

Peter, who had been so ready to run from the bedroom, stopped right in his tracks. Here he thought something urgent was happening, and Hector was just asking him what he wanted to eat...ah, Hector...the yell had sounded like a cry for help. Peter felt exhausted all over again.

"Anything will do, _dear_! Just be careful about overtiring yourself, and also..."

Hearing the reemergence of Peter's protective side, Hector facepalmed himself in the kitchen downstairs. "Shut the fuck up, Peter!" Good god. He was just about sick to death of being treated like he was some fragile thing.

Palm pressing up on the tip of his nose, Peter turned toward the bathroom. The blood rose too quickly to his head, making him dizzy. His old low blood pressure problem...

Having finished donning his shirt and suit, Peter intended to approach Hector downstairs. He wore his favorite blue tie as he came down the stairs.

Just as Peter opened his mouth to speak, Hector's voice interrupted.

"So the address is Vermont St., number 352? Next to the white theater building? Okay."

Hm? Who was he speaking with now? Peter's curiosity got the better of him.

Peter's head turned left and right in search of Hector, who turned out to be leaning against the kitchen counter. On the dining table, the food and drinks were still piping hot. Hector had made toast and eggs Benedict, along with hollandaise sauce, for Peter. A pot of Darjeeling tea completed the meal, all of which were Peter's favorites.

But Peter didn't see the detailed beauty before him, he was more focused on eavesdropping on Hector's phone conversation.

"Peter? Don't worry about him..." Hector's sudden dropping of Peter's name threw him for a moment. "He's has no idea, and I'm not going to let him ruin anything. As soon as he leaves for work, I'll go over there. Anyway, just be on guard, okay? Don't let anyone else take it!"

What? Peter gasped, annoyed all over again. Hector WAS hiding something! Was he going on an assignment later? That would be incredibly dangerous! Peter had already forbidden it, why was he not listening at all?!

Hector made his goodbyes to whoever was on the phone and turn turned around to realize that Peter was standing by the stairs. A small smile crept up the hitman's thin lips. "Good morning. Come here, I'll help you with your tie."

"You shut up."

Peter spoke fiercely. His eyes blazed with hate.

"Eh?" Hector sounded confused. "Huh? What's going on, Peter? Why are you so--"

"You're going to 'work' again later, right? You want to use your weapon on other people? See them groan under your sense of mercy, right? You really don't care about anything. You've already asked for your victim to be secured."

Peter distanced himself from his husband because he knew just how bad his temper was when it flared, and he didn't want to hurt Hector.

Hector, meanwhile, actually walked right up to him, one hand supporting his lower abdomen. "Wait--did you hear that conversation? There seems to be a misunderstanding here..." Confusion was clearly visible on his face.

"Don't come near me," Peter took a step back. He motioned with his index finger for Hector to stop. "I know you don't like being in this condition, pregnant and unable to continue with your usual activities. And I'm sorry, too, because it makes you trapped in that condition, but I didn't know hated it that much," Peter hissed.

"What!?" Hector was looking increasingly confused. "What the hell do you mean? Are you accusing me of not caring about our child?!"

"You careless, heartless bastard! You don't care about our child at all! You never talk about him, or how his condition is, you never speak about it with any sort of joy or happiness, or even call him dear!" screamed Peter. His voice was deafening. "The only thing you think of is yourself, you and you alone. Everything is centered on you alone--I don't understand how I could have chosen to be with someone like you!"

Hearing those hurtful words hurl out of Peter's mouth, Hector felt like something was strangling him at his neck. That uncomfortable choking feeling made its way up his chest. It was a feeling he hadn't expected to be familiar with again...

Peter took a deep breath before he cast out the last few biting words. His face flushed with anger. "I didn't realize there were parents who could hate their own child," he spat out.

He was breathing hard, and then he fled from the house, leaving Hector behind. He just couldn't stand it anymore and had to get away from Hector. So Peter went straight to his car, put his key in the ignition, and warmed up the car in a hurry.

Peter actually felt guilty for saying such hurtful things to Hector and then leaving him alone, but he didn't want to imagine what Hector was going to do next after such a blowout fight. He'd probably destroy the whole house with his cadre of firearms...

The car tires squealed slightly as Peter backed up his car to leave.

Even though Peter had left their house, he carried his emotions heavily in his heart.

Peter hadn't realized that he'd just torn open old childhood memories, ones Hector thought were locked away at the bottom of his heart. They were painful memories that Hector wasn't fully able to tell anyone, even his own husband, so full of understanding and love.

...but now he wasn't sure whether his husband would still love him or not...

* * *

 

"Peter."

Quiet.

"Peter..."

Still quiet.

"...Peter Guilliam."

Oh, Smiley. _Shit_.

The bespectacled old man smiled at Peter. Peter looked at him for several moments, stunned a bit just looking at this man who he respected so much, sitting at his desk, chin propped up in the palm of his hand, an understanding expression painted on his face. It was in stark contrast to the Guillam from 3 minutes ago who stood in front of his desk, being handed over to the folder containing work materials to his boss.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

At last, Peter hastily took the folder on top of Smiley's desk. It was waiting for his signature.

Smiley always seemed calm and collected, in that way that only the elderly could pull off. He took his favorite ink pen from its place to sign Peter's bundle of papers. "Looks like it. Problems with Hector?" His words were soft, like a father to a teenaged child.

Peter swallowed hard. Smiley had good instincts. The man had come up with the theory that there was a spy in their Intelligence Agency and had just proved it. And now look at him, in the leadership position that had belonged to the intruder. A traitor. He got to enjoy all the reward for all the hard work that he put into it.

"...nothing's going on with Hector."

"If I didn't know you, I'd be taken in by your deception," Smiley teased. "Today, your tie isn't as neat as it usually is. Your suit's a bit wrinkled. Hector is a man of detail, he wouldn't let you walk out of the house without making sure that you look good," he said.

The senior's "deductions" set off silent explosions inside Peter. Unconsciously, he touched his hand to his blue tie, the one Hector usually fixed up for him. He had offered to, but well...

Realizing that Peter was silent, Smiley knew that the stab wound were still fresh. Now all he had to do was treat it.

"So what happened? What did Hector do this time?" asked Smiley, settling down a bit more in his chair. He had Peter sit down in his desk to make it easier to talk.

"...he..." Honestly, Peter didn't know where to start.

Smiley sniffed a bit, "Has he become more sensitive? When my wife was pregnant with our kid, she was like that. She became anxious and scared to do anything, and then..." he confessed.

"No. Hector's not like that. Quite the opposite, in fact," Peter denied, hurt clear on his face. It was a clear enough answer to Smiley's earlier question. "He doesn't care at all..." His cast his glance to the side.

Now it was Smiley's turn to be silent. He tilted his head, gesturing for Guillam to continue.

"...yesterday I found him doing target practice in the yard. He also doesn't want to eat the healthy food I make him, doesn't ever tell me anything about his condition and the baby's, and he's incredibly careless--"

Peter's frustration was evident in his hand gestures as he told the story about his husband's behavior, but in contrast to the increasingly frustrated Peter, Smiley's expression was flat and content. He listened with great care to his loyal subordinate.

The elder man suddenly cut off Peter's long babble, "Peter."

"...yes?" Peter focused himself, breath coming in pants.

"You didn't think that Hector's been afraid this whole time?"

"What?"

Smiley clarified himself, "Hector is a hitman, don't forget that. He's quite used to shooting weapons. If he's only doing target practice, he shouldn't be hurting himself or the baby, right? And of course it depends on the kind of weapon. What did he use?"

Peter's answer rushed forth, "A long barreled gun..."

"Ah. A long rifle, I had guessed as much. They do less recoil and have minimised explosions because they happen on the front end of the barrel length. There's just a very small chance of self-injury, close to nonexistent. It's different if you use regular firearms, which are much more likely to shift the shoulder."

He added, "And I feel that Hector's responsible enough despite his carefree facade. I suspect he hasn't changed his habits up til now so that he'd be distracted."

"Why would he need a distraction? He's really not in need of anything at all..." Peter's voice trailed off as the pieces started to form something coherent in his mind.

" _You never know when dealing with a pregnant person_ , Peter. Listening to your story, I suspect that you're the one being overly sensitive. Typical though..." Smiley said. A look of longing passed by his face, like a sort of nostalgia.

Peter connected the dots. "...You think I've been too paranoid then?"

"You've only just realized?" Smiley's worried face morphed into a teasing one, as if to say _kids these days_.

"But the nerve of him doing target practice today, when I'd already told him not to and he went and did it anyway. Is that what you mean by 'afraid'?"

"Oh? Really? You're sure that he really went through with it?" Smiley challenged.

...In truth, Peter wasn't sure Hector would do that to him. Fine, he was ruthless in his work, considering he frequently grinned like a bobcat when he was shooting someone...but in their everyday lives...he was very different, he was the shy Hector Dixon that appeared only in front of Peter.

Seeing that Peter was lost in his own thoughts, Smiley snapped him back to reality by putting the work folder that he'd signed in front of Peter.

Peter immediately rose from his chair and took the folder, thanked him, and started for the door. But Smiley's words stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh, you should eat something, Peter. You look pale. Forget breakfast?"

Peter nodded in answer. His stomach had been growling for a while... and damned of Smiley's intuition wasn't a scary thing, like he was omniscient...

* * *

Since it was lunchtime, Peter decided to go to a little cafe he frequented often, and ordered a sandwich and tea. He ate half-heartedly, so that he wouldn't upset his stomach after it being empty for so long. But in any event, he didn't have any appetite.

His mobile phone was in his left hand, while his right held a cup of tea. He wanted to ring up Hector and ask for forgiveness over this morning's mess... _damn_ , he really needed to rein in his emotions...he had once torn apart one of his underlings for shirking his duties while on the job, all for a woman. God.

But instead of getting in touch with Hector, Peter decided to call up Fabian. Maybe he would know something about the address Hector asked about and whether his husband really had a new assassination target...

The phone rang several times before Fabian finally answered. A deep voice answered.

"Hullo?"

"Ah, hello, Fabian."

"Er--Mr. Guillam. Hello. How are you?" Strange, Fabian sounded nervous. Peter's suspicions grew...

"Sorry to bother you. Is Hector with you at the moment?"

But as Peter delved into Hector's whereabouts, Fabian sounded increasingly nervous... "Eh? Oh, well, about that...n-no, he's not with me..."

"Don't lie to me. Tell me where he is and who his target is this time." Annoyance was building up in Peter.

"Target?" Fabian asked. "There's no target. Wasn't Mr. Hector not accepting work at the moment?"

Why would Fabian say the exact opposite? Was Hector making him lie?

"What about the address you gave him yesterday? That's where the target is, isn't it?!"

"Uh--I, uh...Mr. Hector said not to tell you, but that was definitely not the location of any target! Far from it, in fact."

"If it's not, just tell me the truth!" Peter shot back. People in the cafe turned their heads at this reply.

Fabian was silent for a moment. Thinking about whether he had to tell Peter the truth or not...

"It's...a store for children's furniture. Mr. Hector asked me to order a crib that he liked. There was only one left, and he told me to take care of it before it was bought up by someone else."

"...eh?"

* * *

"Ahh!" Fabian groaned in frustration and panic. "I shouldn't have told you about it! Mr. Hector told me not to because he wanted to make it a surprise for you and oh my god, what have I done..."

Peter's jaw went slack. The hand holding up his mobile phone went limp...as it turned out, he really was too paranoid. Smiley was right.

"...so, so then where is Hector now?" he asked.

"Er...at home, I guess? After the pickup, he asked for a ride home. Mr. Hector looked strange, he was quiet the entire trip...his eyes looked puffy," Fabian replied.

Oh my god, he'd been crying.

Peter felt instantly horrible.

"Is--is he okay? What did he say?"

"Not much. He was silent, just watching the road. The last time I saw Mr. Hector do that was when his parents found out where he was staying in London. And that was a year ago."

Peter was shocked at all the information coming out of Fabian. And really, parents? Hector still had parents? He never talked about his parents to Peter.

Curiousity piqued, Peter asked further. "And what was the issue with the parents?"

"You didn't know?" Fabian was all confusion. "Mr. Hector ran away from home when he was 15 years old. He fled to London and started up with this job after being trained by his old boss."

"I...I did not know that. Hector never talks about any of that and hell, I just found out he had parents from you just now. I had thought they'd died or something. He had problems with them?" Guilt dripped from every word Peter uttered.

"I had heard Mr. Hector's parents abused him...really, he doesn't much talk about himself. He's much more likely to talk about you, Mr. Guillam."

Abused by his own parents? That would explain a lot actually. If Hector was scared at the prospect of having a child, it must be because he was afraid of turning into the abusive parents that raised him.

The idea bore itself into Peter's head. He paid at the cafe's cashier and dashed to his car, trying to open it in a haze of confused thoughts.

"Hello? Mr. Guillam? What's going on?" Hearing nothing but the sounds of movement on the line made Fabian worry. What was he doing?

"I'm going to see him. Thank you, Fabian. I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

Peter shut off the phone and tossed it into the empty passenger seat. He pulled the hand brake in his Volvo and peeled out of the parking lot.

What had he done?

Horrible images flashed through his mind, and Peter realized he'd overstepped and yelled at Hector without knowing the facts. Hector was so indifferent about the pregnancy because he was scared. The harsh words that Peter spoke to him echoed in his ears like a broken radio, and he was half amazed he could have ever said such hurtful things to the love of his life.

The ride to the house seemed to go on forever...as if he would never reach home, doomed to go round and round in a vicious circle.

* * *

_"Just look at your son's behavior! Brat! Completely ungrateful!"_

_"He's your son too, you know! It's all because you didn't bring him up properly!"_

_A man and a woman arguing.Their shadows cast on the floor of the hallway outside the door by the lights from within the room. Their argument worsens, harsh words thrown, blaming one another. The sound of things breaking punctuates the fight._

_The boy they speak of stands alone in a dark alley. A small hand scrubs at his eyes, puffy from crying all day. His oversized pyjamas don't entirely cover the bruises and cuts that dot his back and neck, and the scars from being hit with belts and sharp objects--_

_The two of them are talking about him again, right? Fighting again because of him? When are they ever going to stop? He's sick of it all. Sick. His dark blue eyes have lost their light, all childish curiosity and innocence having long gone dim and dead._

_What remains is pain. Hatred. Hate. Hate. Hate. Could this feeling ever even leave his heart?_

_Mum and dad should have been the ones to protect him. He was their child, their one child that they were able to have. Why would they throw it all way? Why hurt him, hit him, humiliate him, break him? What did he do?_

_Melancholy eyes peek out from the blonde fringe that half covers his face. The sound of his parents' fighting only worsen, make him feel ill, making him want to just leave...go far away...mum and dad don't love him, why stay?_

_Hatred, growing overtop a firm foundation of deep disappointment, only grows inside of a young Hector Dixon. He finds an escape in the form of violence, taking the lives of others. All because of a pain from long, long ago._

* * *

 Seeing their house in the distance was already putting Peter on edge. What would he find there? Was Hector all right?

"Hector! Hector!""

Like deja vu, Peter got out of the car and didn't bother closing the door. He half threw himself at the front door, finding it locked when he turned the door knob. Strange. Hector never locked it, why start now? The thought made Peter uncomfortable.

Fortunately, Peter had a spare house key. He quickly opened and closed the door behind him, breathing heavily against the mahogany door. He threw his coat off without so much as a care, his main focus being Hector just now...

"Hector!" Peter scoured the area looking for his husband, but didn't find him. "Hector, where are you? Answer me!" All he heard in reply was silence. Peter was sure Hector would be at home, he couldn't have gone far...well, the only place he hadn't yet checked was...

the bedroom for their future child.

Peter hurried up the stairs. Still wearing his shoes, he tried opening the pale white door at the end of the hall. He heard a sound that sounded like something hitting wood. Hector. It had to be Hector. What was he doing in there?

Peter found himself before the door, staring at the silver door handle. Hector was in there. What would he say? Would Hector throw knives at him, shoot at his head?

He'd take all the consequences. He'd hurt Hector, and not just physically--but psychologically. He deserved a just retribution for his actions, for having gone too far.

The door creaked open slowly. Peter's silvery blue eyes peeked into the room, which was painted in the creamy white shades Hector had picked out. Peter remembered only little the furniture inside this room; just a wardrobe, a bed, and shelves for the baby's things. But this time, Peter saw a rocking chair, a plethora of dolls and teddy bears, baby clothes of all different colors beside the bed, and lastly there was Hector sitting on the floor, assembling the white wooden crib with a hammer. He was sitting behind the bed.

Peter couldn't find his voice. Hector was silent as he continued assembling the framework of the half-finished furniture before him. He wore his usual grey suit, and Peter guessed he'd come straight here to this room when he'd arrived home. Spending time decorating and...

"...Hector," Peter said slowly. He walked stiffly to where Hector sat. "...Hector, I am so sorry." Apologies are cheap, Peter thought inwardly. He cursed himself.

Hector unexpectedly stopped what he was doing. His arms hung limply at his side and with a dangerous tone said, "Get out of my sight."

Peter was silent. That was a threat just now. Hector wasn't kidding. But Peter didn't intend to give up that easily, and he wasn't going to disappoint Hector all over again.

"No," he said, ignoring the threat and continuing to step toward Hector. "I'm not going to leave you. I'm sorry, about before...I...was wrong..."

"Your assessment of the situation is spot on, Guillam," Hector called him by his surname. It was a dangerous sign. "Nothing at all wrong with it." His tone was dripping in scorn for himself as well.

Everything you said is true.

I don't care, you said.

I don't care about anyone, you said.

Even our own children, you said.

* * *

_Congratulations, you two are going to be parents._

_The words needle into his skull. Hector sits down weakly on the waiting room chair, both hands gripping his head. Face turned down, he looks at the hospital floor and both his feet atop that. His eyes bulged out, glaring, fear consuming his chest from the inside. It makes him feel choked in his throat._

_He had agreed to go to the hospital today with Peter for a check-up. Face cast downward, he looks at the hospital floor and both his feet. The day before, he had felt faint after dealing with his latest target, but thankfully Fabian was there to let Peter know about it. Peter of course panicked, taking Hector to the hospital to get to the bottom of it._

_The results of the blood test show positively the presence of the hCG hormone in Hector's body. Peter and Hector, who weren't conversant in medical terms, asked what it meant. And the doctor told them that it was a sign that there was a fetus growing inside of Hector. Their reactions couldn't have been more different: Peter grinning widely like a Cheshire cat that got into the cream, while Hector stiffened completely, mouth a thin line._

_He hadn't been prepared for this. Well, he knew it was a possibility to get pregnant because he was one of many men with a well-functioning uterus, but he didn't think it would happen to him...that he'd have a child._

_"Hector, are you okay?"_

_A pair of feet stop in front of him. Hector lifts his head and meets Peter's worried gaze. In his hand is a disposable cup, steaming with hot tea. Peter places it in Hector's hands and sits beside his husband._

_Hector looks at the steaming red tea, the image swirling in his vision. "...I'm fine," he says._

_Peter grunts. Hector is a terrible liar. For a professional assassin, he is too arrogant to lie properly._

_"...do you actually want this?" asks Peter._

_"What do you mean?"_

_A small cough escapes the MI6 spy. "This child..." Peter shyly lowers his gaze to Hector's stomach, which is still flat and covered up by his long-sleeved black shirt. "You don't look happy about it...I'm...worried about you."_

_Peter had looked rather happy. Appropriately, the prospect of having a child hadn't entered into his mind just yet, but now they had so much to look forward to..._

_For Hector, Peter's happiness was paramount, even if he often tormented the poor man in many ways. Hector wasn't altogether sure if Peter just liked being tortured by Hector or if the man was just down for anything. This was just random in the most severe._

_A daughter or a son, representing the perfect combination of the two of them...Hector imagines a daughter with Peter's beautiful hair, perhaps with his eyes...they'd have a pretty child, a little lovely thing to keep forever. Peter's children would be intelligent and capable, and imagining it makes Hector nearly smile._

_But Hector is haunted by the shadow of how his parents raised him. The worst parents he ever met, they hadn't deserved to care for children, much less raise them. Hector is scared to death that he would treat his own child the way his parents did. He wouldn't want to see her cry, wouldn't want to see his child look at him with fear in her eyes...he just doesn't want that._

_But he can't let Peter know this, afraid of raining on the parade of Peter's happiness. No._

_"Mhmmm," Hector flashes his usual grin. He polishes off the tea that he'd nearly forgotten Peter had given him,  and throws the cup into the trash bin beside his chair. "You idiot. You've already put it in my belly, we can't very well return it to whence it came."_

_Hearing Hector's strange statement, Peter was perplexed. "Eh?"_

_"I'm happy, Peter."_

_Hector abruptly cups Peter's face in his palm. Peter takes Hector's hand in turn, and they share a chuckle. The wedding bands on their ring fingers catch just slightly in the hospital lights._

_"Thank you for all of this, dear. Thank you, thank you, thank you..."_

_Peter pulls Hector into his arms. He kisses Hector at the crook of his neck, whispering over and over again how much he loves him and the lovely family they would soon make..._

_Hector rests his head on Peter's shoulder. He breathes in the scent of Peter's cologne that he loves so much, both arms circled around Peter's back._

_He has to learn to swallow his fear._

_He very much wants this child. Oh God, Hector findshimself in love with a lump of cells no larger than a grape. It's all amazing and strange._

_"I love you..."_

_Hector unclasps his hands at Peter's back and lowers them to his belly. His grip is tight over the skin, willing away the fear. He would strive to be a good parent, he wouldn't repeat his parents' mistakes..._

_...right?_

* * *

 Peter sat with his legs crossed beside Hector. Hector looked away from him. The short distance between them felt very far indeed. Peter noticed the crib was already half completed, and just the frame of it was beautiful. He wondered what it would look like completed. No wonder Hector had wanted this one...

"...are you afraid?"

Peter whispered to him softly. Hearing Hector shift slightly, Peter knew he had his attention. Hector swallowed, his eyes coming unfocussed, thinking how did Peter know? No...

Hearing Hector shifting again, Peter knew it to be true. He added, "Are you afraid of becoming like your parents, Hector?"

It was that sentence the broke the silence between them.

Peter spun around and punched Peter right in the face, sending him toppling to the side. Not stopping there, Hector straddled Peter, holding him down with his legs. Both of Hector's hands lifted up the collar of his shirt, lifting up Peter's upper body off the floor. Peter's right eye would no doubt swell from the punch, a dark blue bruise to form in the next day...

"Shut your fucking mouth! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Hector yelled right into Peter's face.

Now with his body over Peter's, holding him still over the floor...Hector was rather short of breath, with Peter's body pressing up against Hector's belly. Realizing that, Peter tried to shift to give Hector more space to breathe.

"What do you know about them? How did you find about that, you utter asshole?!"

Hector's shouts turned hysterical. His strong hands still gripped Peter by the collar. There was no doubt of his physical strength. In contrast to the hysterical Hector, Peter was calm and collected. Or he was trying to be calm, though seeing Hector being hysterical wasn't exactly conducive...

"I'm--I'm sorry, I should have been more sensitive..." Peter wrapped his hands around Hector's wrists. "I should have realized you weren't just being uncaring all this time, but afraid...looking for something to take your mind off your fear..."

Hector pushed Guillam's head to the floor, though not too forcefully.

"Shut up!! I said shut up!!" he started to sob, but no tears came.

Peter groaned, feeling dizzy for a moment. Damn, Hector's strength was no joke...even though he was currently pregnant and his body was smaller than Peter's.

"It's not that you didn't care, Hector!" Now it was Peter's turn to speak. "Quite the opposite, you really do care! You just feared-- you were afraid you'd turn out the same as your parents, right? No, Hector. I'm positive you won't be like them, I can see that you care very much for this child, from the start of its life; you're different...you're not at all like them."

Hector fell quiet at Peter's explanation. The man had just opened up about what had been in Hector's heart all this time. The fact that his parents' bad deeds had buried a deep-seated trauma in Hector's early life had burdened him all this life. And it was only getting worse now that he was pregnant...

"Stop--Peter."

The hands gripping Peter's shirt slowly loosened. Hector lowered his head until his chin rested on his chest. He started to lift himself off of Peter and would have gotten away from Peter if the other man hadn't caught his arm.

Peter spun Hector to face him. He tried to hug him as tightly as he could, as close as Hector's belly would allow. Hector struggled in his arms, muttering in complaint until finally Hector gave in and stood limply in Peter's arms.

"Shhh. It's okay...it's okay, everything is going to be all right. Shhh..." Peter tried to quiet Hector, which earned him a whispered 'fuck you' from Hector. "Calm down, okay? Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom. You need a break."

Hector didn't say a word. He just let himself be led by Peter to their bedroom, too tired and dizzy for any further argument. His head spun, was that the result of the adrenaline? Hector felt himself slipping away...

"Hector...? ...Hector!"

Guillam's voice was calling to him. But he was already slipping into unconsciousness.

* * *

_"Oh_ what the hell _?"_

_Hector's voice is piercing. He is cursing the entire room. Fabian who was always at his back tries to see what the object of his boss' wrath is this time, and it appears to be an elderly couple sitting in the private waiting room of the restaurant._

_That day, Hector was on a call to meet a new client, having agreed to meet at an exclusive restaurant in a luxury hotel. As was usual, Hector brought along Fabian, who had picked him up from home. Hector didn't forget to "take care" of Peter before he'd left for work._

_"Hector?! Is that you, son? Oh my god, I didn't realize you'd be working as..."_

_The woman gets up from her chair. She has long, light blonde hair, an oval face, and dark blue eyes. She is rather short, but has an athletic body. She and Hector look oddly similar._

_Meanwhile, the man looks just a bit older than her. He has dark brown hair, pale skin, and green eyes. He is not as hysterical as his wife, but his cold features do look rather shocked._

_Hector is the most surprised of them all. Fabian is simply struck dumb, not knowing that he'd just witnessed a family reunion 20 years in the making._

_"...the fuck are you doing here? Don't tell me..." Hector turns to Fabian. Fabian looks back at his boss, who looks like he could spit daggers. "These are our clients?! Are you kidding me? How did they find me?!"_

_"E-e-h?! I--I don't have any idea, Sally just told me that we had a new client, that's all! I didn't know anything further about them? Their names weren't even listed..." Fabian rambles on, struggling for excuses to keep Hector's stabbing at bay._

_The man and woman are quiet as they watch Hector chew out his companion. They look like like they want to talk more, but Hector isn't letting them. He isn't going to let them destroy his career and his new family._

_Hector hisses, "Let's get out of here, Fabian." He gets up to go._

_"Wait, Hector! We're your parents! You've been missing for more than 20 years, please just give us a little time!"_

_The "father" had finally opened his mouth. It makes Hector stop in his tracks._

_Fabian gasps, his hand flying to his mouth. These two are Hector's parents? What??_

_"Thomas..." she says softly. In fact, she is amazed at how similar her husband and son's temperaments are, like it or not._

_Thomas doesn't take his eyes off of Hector, who stands facing away from them. He hadn't thought that the top rated assassin for hire would be his own so, Hector Dixon. The only son of Thomas Dixon and Heather Mary-Dixon._

_Hector turns around. From the look on his face, it is obvious just how displeased he is at the elderly couple he once called his father and mother. "How did you find me?" That was the question that had stuck in in mind._

_"W-we paid a lot of people to find you. One of them came back with information about your situation, and the rest..." Heather says slowly._

_"Oh? Were those the people who were following me around a few months ago, Fabian?" Hector bites out at his bodyguard. Fabian nods stiffly. "I thought they were business rivals, but it appears they were paid by you to find me. You just wasted their lives..." Hector's smile is all teeth._

_Neither Thomas nor Heather want to imagine that Hector had killed all those private investigators that they'd paid to find their only child. How Hector has changed...far more cynical, more callous, ungrateful. He had once been a shy boy with no friends, always looking for trouble -- their son has been a sore spot for them._

_"Are we done? I have a dinner appointment with my husband tonight and I don't want to waste my time on you." Hector is getting impatient._

_Heather blinks rapidly. "...husband? You're married?!"_

_"...what?" Thomas is no less shocked._

_Hector hates them even more to see them react with looks of disgust that he has a husband. What right do they have to judge him? They have no right to anything at all. Hector considers them dead to him._

_"Stop."_

_His left hand, still in its black glove, rises as high as his chest: a silent threat._

_"You can insult me, but don't you dare judge my husband. I will cut off your hands and feet and watch you crawl in a puddle of your own blood," Hector says, hatred burning thick in his eyes. "You two are disgusting and I don't want to ever see you again. Get out of here!" he yells._

_"Hector! Son! We were worried about you, all right? Ever since you left, we haven't stopped looking for you, praying for your safety, and taking care of all your things for you!" Heather's tone rises higher and higher. "We love you! Please forgive us, before it was...it was a mistake..."_

_His mother's shouts awaken bad memories in Hector. He remembers that autumn Sunday...his mother had come home and straightaway hit Hector, blaming something completely irrational on him. And no matter how much Hector had cried, his mother didn't stop. Oh god, she didn't stop..._

_Hector pulls out a short barreled gun that was hidden away in his suit pocket. Without another word, he shoots in Heather's direction, deliberately missing but hitting the couch on which Heather and Thomas sit. Both of them yelp in surprise._

_"Shut up, you bitch."_

_Hector's voice is sinister. The mouth of the gun is still smoking, and Fabian immediately goes to find out if anyone else is in the vicinity of their room. Shots like that tend to attract attention._

_"Stop it, Hector! Is that how you treat your own mother?!" Thomas grabs his wife, who has started to cry, shocked that she'd nearly been shot dead by her own son._

_The bad memories of his father come back to Hector. His father had often beat him using a belt, slashed him with a small needle pin he kept in his desk...always called his son useless, pathetic, cowardly, and the rest..._

_One more shot whizzes through the air. This time, it hits the couch on Thomas' side. It was close, but fortunately Hector remembered to just slightly tilt the gun...leaving Thomas and Heather hugging each other in fear of Hector shooting again._

_"Listen to me, you scum...don't you dare show yourselves to me again. I will kill you. Understand? This is the last time you appear in front of me. We have no relationship anymore. My name is not Hector Dixon, it's Hector Guillam. Take that in well, you fucking fuck."_

_With minimal satisfaction, Hector stows the weapon. Walking toward his cowering parents, Hector feels like he is seeing the events of his childhood but in reverse, their roles swapped. Hector is the villain here. He is the one doing as he pleases, who lacks any self-control. Realizing this, he laughs darkly. Had he unconsciously become just like his parents? He tries to swallow the bitterness...he isn't like them! They are different, different, different..._

_...Hector isn't the same as his parents...and he hoped he never will be..._

* * *

 When Hector opened his eyes, what he saw was Peter's blonde hair. Peter's head was rested in the crook of Hector's neck, and he slept with his body wrapped protectively around his partner. Hector realized he was in their bed, on his side, with the blanket covering both him and Peter.

How long had he been here? Was it Peter who brought him here? What happened?

Hector looked down at Peter's face, and saw his swollen eye on the side that Hector punched. He'd have an even uglier wound come morning...Hector fingered Peter's cheekbones, searching out Peter's charming facial structure. It was one of the very best things Hector liked about Peter.

Hector's hand suddenly dropped to rub his belly. Peter's hand was already there, and Hector brought their hands together, linking their fingers. Sentimental, huh. This domestic feeling was outside Hector's realm and he wasn't very good in that aspect without also being cynical and pessimistic.

"Oh..."

The feeling of a kick from inside his belly surprised Hector. Peter awoke from his sleep, muttering his surprise when he felt the movement under his palm.

Peter's sudden movement jerked his head right into Hector's chin. Thunk! "Ow!" Hector cried, the pain ringing right into his mouth.

"Hector?!" Even in a haze, Peter reached out to check on Hector. He saw his husband reeling, hand flying to his mouth. "What happened? Did--did you start contractions? Are you all right?" The sight of him was making Peter panic and he hovered closer to Hector.

Hector batted away Peter's hand that was roaming over him. "No, no! Oi! I haven't even had false contractions, how am I going to have real ones?! Stupid!" He'd started cursing before coming back to the bed to rest. "Prudy was just moving her leg or hand. She does that," he added.

"Pru--Prudy?" Peter gasped out, confused.

After calming down, Peter positioned himself on the edge of the bed while Hector laid down on his back. Both silently eyed each other, knowing they had a lot to talk about but not knowing where to start.

"...I should've known," Peter started. Keeping his gaze on Hector, who was returning the intense look while half covered by the blanket. "I should have better understood your feelings and instead I only added to your burdens--I'm not helping you with this pregnancy..."

Hearing Peter was on the verge on crying, Hector growled his upset. He normally scorned this kind of patheticness. But Peter could only show this vulnerable side to Hector and Hector knew it. He was grateful for it.

"You idiot, you've helped with a lot of things. You make me eat healthy food, make sure I don't do dangerous things, take care of other needs, all of it," Hector said. "You make sure nothing goes wrong...all of this...it's my fault, Peter. I should have told you what I was worried about all this time, so that you didn't have to draw the wrong conclusions."

"...it's not easy to discuss the fears that haunt us, dear...everyone has their secrets, ones they don't want to tell anyone. Maybe they're too painful or just confusing."

Peter hesitated to place his hand back on Hector. He didn't think Hector would squeeze his hand back. But it felt like they were calm enough now, and Peter could return to lying alongside Hector. They pivoted to face each other.

"...you're sensitive," Peter whispered to his husband. "But you don't let other people think so, you always trick them, me included..."

"Sentiment makes people look weak. That kind of thing isn't needed in our kind of work, Peter. Others will play you and use your feelings against you..." Hector let out.

Peter smiled, for Hector was openly talking at least...

"There's nothing wrong with sentiment...that is..."

Hector raised his eyebrows, guessing what Peter would say next.

"...that's what makes you alive, right? It's what makes you appreciate the things around you," Peter said softly. Raising his hands to caress Hector's face, he said, "It's what makes you care. I can see it now, Hector.  Your sentiment shows in the little things you do, all the little details you pay attention to..."

Hector looked at Peter with wide eyes, not having realized that Peter was aware of all that. Hector didn't want to admit it, but Peter had known all this time...

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you this morning. I said you hated our own child. Oh no..." Peter continued. "You love her very much. you've prepared so many things for her, things I haven't even thought of. I'm probably the insensitive one here," he said.

Hector suddenly hit Peter's arm, making him cry in surprise,  "What are you talking about, idiot? You'll be a great father, you fuck! Don't ever say otherwise!" Hector said, annoyed as hell.

Peter's hand caught Hector's. He lunged forward, kissing him soundly. Hector melted into the kiss, his hands at the nape of Peter's neck, pulling him closer.

When the need to breathe finally forced them to stop, Peter and Hector shared a look while catching their breath. Slowly, a smile broke across their faces, these two men who both worked in life and death, foreheads and noses touching intimately.

Quietly, they whispered apologies each other.

They hugged each other tightly before Peter propped up his arm under Hector's head so he could sleep cradling Peter's whole body. Peter's hand rested on the hitman's hip. He could feel the edge of Hector's large belly touching his own stomach. It reminded him of something.

"You called her Prudy. What does Prudy mean?" Peter rubbed his stomach next to Hector.

"...Prudence," Hector answered, embarrassed. He let out a long sigh. "I like the name..." His voice had half disappeared. Perhaps out of embarrassment

Hearing Hector's embarrassment, Peter grinned to himself. For god's sakes, Hector was an assassin, he had no business being this adorable..."Prudence, huh? It's a girl's name...you're sure the child's a girl? Didn't yesterday's ultrasound say it was a boy?"

"It's a girl, I just know it. Don't ask why."

"Hm? Kind of like a mother's intuition?" Peter teased.

He got a hard swat across the chest for the teasing. It made Peter dissolve into giggle, and he hugged Hector even closer to him. He was comfortable in the arms of the one he loved most in this world.

Who knew what their lives would be like once the baby was born? Maybe Hector would be able to handle his insecurities better, forget the issues he had once upon a time with his own parents, and focus on taking care of their own child. Peter was sure Hector wouldn't hurt his own child though, he loved the child too much to ever introduce him to the true professions of her parents.

With both Peter and Hector's work invisible to the child, they'll be good parents for their children's future.

(END)


	2. Chapter 2

"...this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you, _you useless fucking fuck_."

Hector stood, utterly annoyed. His hands were folded over his pregnant belly, standing straight and wearing a judging face to Peter, who was sitting limply on the floor of their future child's bedroom. They were assembling the baby crib, but it was more of a giant mess than a construction project.

Peter may well be good when it comes to negotiations, spying, stealing documents, the use of weapons, and even assassinating people...but this blonde-fringed man was incredibly stupid at assembling physical goods and fixing things. Just look at the garage bills that were regularly delivered to their mailbox because Peter's Volvo was so often broken and he was unable to fix it himself.

The story was that because he still felt guilty about yesterday's fight, Peter arrived at the idea that he would try to continue the assembly of the crib. He calculated it as a way to apologize to Hector. At first Hector hadn't agree to it, since Peter didn't exactly have the skillset for it, and Hector certainly didn't want to have their child sleep in an unsafe bed...

Except unfortunately, Peter had the most pathetically puppydog face when he had asked Hector...

So Hector couldn't really refuse, and ultimately agreed to let Peter continue the assembly. Not even 10 minutes had passed before Peter had all but destroyed the crib frame. Hector held himself back from kicking his husband in the backside...

Hector let out a long sigh. "Come on, Peter, let me do it." He crossed his arms and walked over to Peter.

"No, don't!" Peter quickly rose from the construction mess, shaking his head vigorously. "I don't want you to tire yourself out!" he said, his smile as sweet as honey.

Peter's smile actually nauseated Hector. Shit, but did he desperately want to punch Peter...and simultaneously hug him tightly. Both, he supposed.

"Ah, Prudy, Prudy...your father is a fucking disgrace. He can't even assemble a bed on his own. He obviously needs my help but is to proud to ask for it," Hector said, scorn dripping from his voice. He rubbed his belly. "We're going to make him so miserable together once you're born." At that, he grinned.

Hearing that made Peter laugh. After he and Hector had discussed his fear of parenthood, it was now the pregnant man who was acting more comfortable with the child in his belly, even telling her stories. As it turned out, he had been 'indifferent" all this time to Peter and the pregnancy because he was afraid Peter would find it disturbing otherwise. Just like his parents before...

"...but seriously, Peter. That crib is never going to get done if you're the one doing it," Hector said, suddenly serious.

Feeling like Hector was underestimating him, Peter got upset. He replied, "Prudy's not going to be born anytime soon, right? You still have 2 more months. I'll have it done by then."

"..."

Hector was silent. Peter was afraid he was going to get a kick after all. He was already down on the floor with Hector standing beside him, and it was a prime kicking position.

Or maybe...

"...are you afraid Prudy's going to be born earlier?" Peter ventured.

Peter saw both Hector's shoulders tense. Fuck. So that was a thing. Hector immediately went into an upset diatribe.

"You don't know what's going to happen, you dumb shit. My pregnancy's gone into the third trimester and it's a vulnerable period. Prudy could decide to pop out any day now, even though she's only half grown," Hector took a breath. "I don't, in fact, want her to be born early, but fuck, I was born premature. There's a possibility that Prudy's going to be too, same as me...and that's why I don't want to waste time."

Peter paused in amazement. Hector's knowledgeableness about pregnancy made pleasure bubble up in his heart; he was so sensitive about the little things that Peter didn't know about. He really did pay attention to the little details that so many other people simply glossed over.

"Don't worry!"

Peter got up from the floor. He went to Hector and kissed him a small kiss on the lips. After that, he rested his hands on the hips of the man with the cynical grin and looked fondly at Hector's belly.

"I will not disappoint you. You are both very important to me."

Realizing that Peter had included him in the statement made Hector's pale face blush. Peter's love for them both reassured him, and why should he be afraid of parenthood? Peter would be right there to help him...

"...goddamnit, Peter Guillam. You make me want to punch your throat."

Hector leaned in and Peter kissed the tip of his nose. He spread his hands on Peter's shoulders, making Peter pull Hector closer by his hips, and they exchanged little kisses.

"You love me, though. Besides, you already gave me a black eye, remember?" Peter gestured to his eye that was still blue with bruises and shut halfway from the swelling.

Hector went onto his tiptoes to kiss the black eye he'd caused. "It was your own fault. Nobody forced you to make me angry, hm?" said Hector, although really he felt proud for throwing a solid punch while heavily pregnant.

"You can't be mad at me for too long," Peter said, kissing his husband once more.

They spoke softly to each other, showing each other the affection reserved only for each other.

"I love you both. Hector, Prudy."

"...love you too, Peter."

(END)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Best Thing ( Mini Comic )](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124171) by [bulecelup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulecelup/pseuds/bulecelup)




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